Collide
by aster-sunflowers
Summary: Nezumi is a struggling musician. Shion is a college student to the rescue. They meet by "fate" and now whether they like it or not, their lives are changed forever. (This is pretty much just me rewriting the anime with more guitars. Rated M for later chapters.)
1. Chapter 1

HI. I'm actually trying to write something multi-chaptered!

I started this a loooong time ago (about five months ago) and started working on it again because it makes great practice.

I'm not sure how in character they are, but I did my best! I hope this one is worth the read,

and DISCLAIMER: I do not own No.6 at all.

xoxoxo

-ashley

xoxoxoxo

There was silence as a storm rolled over a city.

A man was walking through the streets and his boots began to slosh under the wet rubble and cracked pavement as the rain poured with such intensity, it began to hurt.

He tugged his black hood over his head as he narrowed his eyes, gritting his teeth. He had enough of the world today, and no amount of music could remedy the amount of anger he had for his surroundings.

Cars sped past him, splashing filthy sewage bound rainwater on his pant legs and the occasional insult was passed his way from the passengers of said vehicles.

"HEY FUCKER, GET OUT OF THE ROAD."

The man looked up in time to see a middle finger fly by his face quicker than he could grab it. With the press of the gas pedal, the old rusted, broken, dark red mustang swerved and sped off, turning a sharp corner in the process.

The man's eyes stared boredly in that direction half lidded as he bit his lip and inhaled.

Then he exhaled.

He had to turn around and keep walking, and as he did, his messenger bag stuck to his side.

It was time for rehearsal.

A group of people sat in a dark brown apartment, wallpaperless from their lack of care, and all of the items in said apartment were covered in dust.  
The man walked in and coughed in his hand before locking eyes with his bandmates, sharing an unspoken agreement as he dropped his bag to the wooden floor, and saying "We have work to do."

There was an incoherent mumble from all of the members of the band, and they all nodded and got up to prepare their instruments for tonight's set.

"Do you know where the rest of my strings are?"

"In my bag."

"What's our setlist?"

"Also in my bag."

The man stood, scratching his head in annoyance as everyone seemed to panic over things he had already taken care of, and he leaned against one of the brick walls before staring past the fire escape to the sidewalk below.

It was a grey afternoon, and the inhabitants of this side of town had the worst skills with being civil. It was no surprise that the one car parked correctly was broken down, and even more of an obvious cue that it came from elsewhere, was the fact that the owner was frantically trying to fix it.

The atmosphere was filled with enough unease to cut, and the man thought this from what was at least 60 to 70 feet away from the person below.

Rain or no rain; this part of the city was no good place to be, and just to pay rent, the man had resorted to following his dreams at last. It was the cheapest way to them, but he had one soggy, mud covered, worn boot in the door.

He punched the wall and crushed something under his fist before wincing in pain, and wiping the remains on his coat.

The roach infestation pissed him off, but it was the West Block.

Everyone had to deal with it.  
-

"Shion!" A girl with short brown hair had run across the campus yard under her white, knitted coat.  
She held it over her head to protect herself from the rain, and her eyes widened as she stared at the brunnette in front of her, whom was without an umbrella, himself.

"Afternoon, Safu," he smiled, and her facial expression changed from shock to anger as droplets of water slid down his bangs.

"You'll get a cold!" She shouted at him, trying to cover his head with her coat, but Shion backed away, pushing her arm from him.

"I love the rain!" He said cheerfully as he held out his arms, smiling at the sky.

His white collared shirt was already drenched and he held his black cardigan over his shoulder as he spun around in it, laughing.

Safu turned a faint pink as her gaze softened, but she retreated from any warm feelings as she scolded "SHION, you really need to be more responsible with yourself!"

He turned around to look at her from over his shoulder. He held a tight grin on his face with a child-like innocence unmatched by anything she'd seen at the university.

Safu held in a breath, attempting to glare, but couldn't as Shion only replied to her with "TONIGHT THERE'S GOING TO BE A STORM!"

"THEN AT LEAST TRY GETTING SOMEWHERE SHELTERED," Safu said, from under her coat. They both jumped when a crack sounded through the sky and they looked up to see muffled bolts of lightning from within the dark clouds.

The sun was setting fast and Safu was alarmed as she began running towards her car.

Shion had closed his eyes to embrace the storm yet again when suddenly, Safu's angry voice rung through the air from feet away.

"SHION!"

"Right...," Shion started running towards his own car as he waved goodbye to her, happily taking in the atmosphere of the world as the hour passed, and sunset had begun.

He could tell by how dark the sky was getting that the afternoon was over. A light came on when Shion put the key in his ignition, but he, not being too educated on cars, only blinked.

"I'll have to ask Yasu about this when I get home," he said to himself, before backing out.

It was a silent drive out of the university parking lot, and over highways and intersections, the car had seemed to be going about it's routine without an issue.

The day before, Shion had recalled breaking down during his guilty pleasure of driving through the rest of the city when he could have just driven a few streets over, only because he wanted to see everything that was to be seen.

He had grown up in a more rural household with his single parent, Karan, and all of his life, the only things he'd been familiar with were special courses for his astounding knowledge and the amount of sugar needed to make the perfect crepes.

Karan was a leniant parent, but Shion had never found anything to test her leniacy. He had never really been given the chance to break her trust, so without anything to compare himself to, Shion had become this overall good person, whose morals went unwavered, only because he didn't know how to be immoral, or that he unknowingly sheltered himself.

He was educated in many great things that exposed him to the world with a variety of interesting pasttimes he could have discovered on his own,easily, but something inside him didn't care to step outside of the lines until he moved to this city.

The bright glittering lights from his place on the bus the night he arrived were so romantic to him.  
The way the sky was always lit with something colorful had taken his breath away, and even the overpopulation of people had taken a soft spot in his heart, and as he made his way to his new apartment, Shion realized that he was in love with his new life.

He couldn't keep his eyes off of the skyline, and regardless of how many people he bumped into, or the one death threat he should have taken more seriously, he just knew from the inside out that this was where he belonged.

Shion had lost himself in a train of thought as he crossed the street in his car, before turning left. It would only be a few more blocks until he reached his destination, and he sadly noted this as he tried to soak in the view of his new home, covered in rain.

It was too much for him to handle.

A hooded man walking on the sidewalks outside kept his head turned down and he shoulders were rigid. Shion saw him, and, intrigued by his dark clothes, couldn't help watching where he was going.

The man was walking over sidewalks, passed parked cars, through crowds of people, and he disappeared behind a building, and into an alleyway.

Being a wise judge of character, Shion stopped being curious. He was aware of what went on in alleyways and didn't want to test his morality by trying to find out first hand.

He had seen enough evidence on television and overheard it by his peers that this city had as much drug use as it did educational facilities.

Not being familiar with what kinds of drugs there were, Shion knew only that they were created as a self induced hallucinagen, and wanted no part of it for the sake of his degree. He knew that people became addicted enough to be driven mad, and that here, murder was common.

Taking his keys from the ignition, Shion had sighed, questioning why people resorted to that kind of thing when they could just settle their differences with good communication.

After all, communication was the key to understanding, and what problem couldn't be solved with a little confronta- Shion slammed his door shut and frantically ran into the street, shouting "MOVE!"

The man in black didn't have time to turn as Shion tackled him into a bench, and just inches from where they were standing, a huge bus passed, at what looked to be over the legal speed limit.

People walking by had looked at the bus and then back at the two males, tangled in eachother before paying no mind, returning to their evening commutes.

The man pushed Shion away from him, but suddenly felt very guilty as he looked up to see Shion's face full of worry. He looked at the road in front of them in disbelief and pulled down his hood before saying "Thank you...,"

"Are you alright?" Shion asked. He looked at the man as he crawled towards him on his hands and knees, spotting a small cut on his face before standing up.

"I have medical equipment at home, I can disinfect that cut for you."

The man blinked and stared at Shion with a blank expression before concluding that he was serious and suddenly, he started laughing.  
Shion looked to the ground becoming very red as he scratched his head, turning around.

He thought he had done the man a favor by saving his life and offering him a few bandaids, but apparently these things led to Shion being good use for a joke.  
At his own expense.

Embarassed, he started to walk away, but then the man shouted "WAIT!"

Shion turned around to catch his silver eyes as he moved his bangs from his face, with his free hand extended.

"I'll take you up on that offer."

Shion's humiliation had turned to happiness, and he grabbed the man's hand (to his complete shock and speechless inability to make use of his situation) as he led him across the street.

The night progressed and only got darker as time passed. The storm only began to start again, and Shion was inviting a stranger into his new apartment in a city he had never lived in before.

How stupid.


	2. Chapter 2

sooo it continues.

Disclaimer: do not own but you guys knew that already :P

xoxoxoxo

The man followed Shion home, but that didn't stop his skepticism. The college student acted like they had known eachother for years and took no hesitation to tell him everything about where he lived, where he went to school, and who he was.  
The man should have been furious at such stupidity, but he couldn't find it in himself to glare because he was soaked in a heavy downpour, and had a soft hand leading him somewhere to patch him up after saving his life.

To say he was in shock was an understatement. He turned faintly red and bowed his head, stepping over the curb and walking through the parkinglot.

"Isn't this weather beautiful?" Shion asked, laughing as he took one last look at the sky. He let go of the man's hand and closed his eyes, extending his arms as the rain hit him.

The man took in the sight of this unusual stranger, and his eyes softened their look as he smiled with gratitude.

Shion opened his eyes and sighed as his bangs stuck to his face and his white shirt clung to his body.

The man noted how he was thin, but beautiful.

His brown hair was nothing too special, but somehow he had something about him that made him different.

Ringing out his soaked cardigan on the front step, Shion looked back, laughing as he took the man's hand again and said "I hope you don't mind. I couldn't just let you walk away from me after that,"

The man shook his head.

"It's alright," he said, before looking around in shock. Shion had lived in an expensive complex, and guessing by the location, he wondered if he was also attending the EU.

The lobby's guests were all conservatively dressed and oozing wannabe safistication, and they took no time hiding their upturned nose as the two passed them by.

The man became uneasy and was about to yank his hand back. A thought crossed his mind and through his infatuation, he failed to realize that he could end up being the punchline to a cruel joke, or that this Shion character was out to do him in.

He could get robbed, or beaten... or worse.

He had paled considerably, and Shion only ran his thumb over his hand as he looked back and said "We're here."

The man looked up through wet bangs to see the apartment number.

Somehow his inner musings on his own demise had passed enough time to get them to a fourth floor.

He was in awe with his own blindness, and silently thanked Shion for jumping out at him while the bus was coming. He didn't want to admit that he'd become such a slow thinker, and he blamed- that wasn't important.

The man stepped inside the warm home as he let go of Shion's hand, taking in the sight of everything around him.

There was a bookshelf on strictly Ecology, which he guessed was Shion's major, covered with small framed pictures of an elderly woman, her granddaughter, a young woman that held a striking resemblance to Shion, and a little boy, who was Shion, himself.  
Looking past the pictures, he saw ribbons and awards, years and years old, all congratulating Shion for getting first place in this and first place in that. The man whistled.

For someone so intelligent, this boy was certainly out of his mind.

"OH! Those pictures!" Shion ran to the man in black, with a cup in his hand. "That's Safu, my mother, myself, and Safu's grandma," he grinned. The man raised an eyebrow and blinked before saying "You really aren't acting?"

"Huh..?" Shion stared at the man, who was now dripping a puddle onto his carpeted floor, and handed him the cup.

The man looked at it and stared at it's contents. Hot Cocoa? He could have easily laced it.  
But the man had knowledge in street drugs and their effects. It would have taken more than two minutes for the pill to melt, so he guessed this was either an innocent build to his untimely death, or that Shion was just this nice.

"Why would I be acting?" Shion asked, still pondering the question. He had taken it in it's literal sense and pointed to the bookshelf.

"My major is Ecology and Science," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm not familiar with theater arts at all."

The man started laughing as he wiped a tear from his eye before putting a hand on Shion's shoulder. Even if he did get killed that night, whoever this guy was, was good.

"I can't take this! You're too much!" He cried out, grinning widely.

Shion pushed his hand away, pouting. "If you're making fun of me, I can take back the cocoa and send you back into_ that_."

He pointed to the heavy winds and the swaying trees, lightning flashes and rain pelts tapping the window. The man sighed happily and looked Shion in the eyes as he said a true and honest "Thank you," before looking around some more.

Everything was beige and clean, and his rugged, musty wet clothes were making a mess. He felt ashamed.

Shion gasped. "I'll take your coat!" He said, before looking around. Everything the man was wearing was drenched. He looked to the man and then back around the room as he put up a finger.

"I'll be right back with something warm for you," he said. "Feel free to make yourself at home. This is the least I can do,"

The man blinked in confusion again before watching Shion leave the room in a panic. This stranger had saved his life, led him home, gave him cocoa. He let this stranger into his apartment, and yet for such a dumb move, he was this really smart EU student with an entire wall of awards.

By the looks of it, he wouldn't let the man leave that night, would he? The man pondered as he put his thumb over his lips, staring at the room. After awhile, he concluded that if Shion was a sociopathic murderer, he would have died having great cocoa. Unless, perhaps, there was another form of payment he had anticipated on.

The man recalled the look of his slender, pale body in his wet, white collared shirt. The way it clung to him and teased with just a sliver of exposed skin above his waist band... The man nodded. If it came to that, he concluded, he'd have no issue.

His self respect outweighed his lust anyday, however. This shady Shion fellow would have to work for it.

The man then took another sip of the chocolate. This drink was more than exceptional. This definitely wasn't the cheap watered down stuff, he mused.

Shion had returned, holding his arms out as he said "You can wear this after I'm done fixing your cuts."

The man's eyes widened as he saw a dark purple knit sweater and black shorts. _Truly sexy_, he thought sarcastically, as his eyes flicked over the Charlie Brown style lining with the weirdest shades of purple. Relieved, he bit his tongue to be more grateful towards this confirmed sociopath, and kept his comment about the clothes and their style to himself.

Suddenly, he shirt went up.

"WHAT ARE YOU _DOING_?!" The man asked defensively, tugging his shirt back down. Shion looked up at him innocently as his big brown eyes glittered in the lamp light.

"You have infected scratches and bruises on your back from hitting the concrete!" Shion explained "I just need to disinfect them and I'll leave you alone, I promise."

"Disinfect with what?" The man's eyes narrowed as he readied himself for an attack, and Shion held up a bottle of peroxide to his shock. Oh...so Shion was actually nice.

He couldn't trust that it was actually peroxide, but after a few sips of cocoa, the man stopped caring. He shed his shirt without a question, and winced as the weight of water made it cling stubbornly to him, dragging into his cuts.

"Now... hold still. This could sting," Shion warned, and the man nodded. He was used to pain. He winced and flinched as a wet cloth dabbed his skin, and a smell filled the room as Shion kneeled behind him, rubbing his back.

"You're an unusual one," The man said quietly before Shion paused. The cloth in his hand stopped moving.

"How so?"

The man could have face palmed. They had only known eachother for an hour and already, he had a list of reasons why Shion was out of his mind.

The man cleared his throat.

"You haven't even asked my name, for one," he said. Shion frowned, eyes widening. "I'm so rude! I'm so sorry," he said, dabbing the cuts again.

The man chuckled.

"You can call me Nezumi if you'd like...," he said quietly. "It's nothing fancy like your name. It only means 'rat'."

"Nezumi...," Shion said the name aloud and loved the way it felt on his lips. He looked away from Nezumi's naked torso and back at the bandages.

A few dabs of ointment, and numerous bandaids later, Nezumi had given in and put on the clothes Shion gave him as his own were being washed and dried.  
He was given the chance to stay overnight, and had grown fond of Shion.

The longer he spent time with him, the less suspicous Nezumi felt about him, and the more endearing he seemed.

They were sitting on the couch with cups of hot chocolate emptied on the coffee table, and the room was dark, save for the light of a movie.

The way Shion talked to him and laughed at certain scenes made him feel a warmth inside him that he wasn't used to. Normally the people he was associated with had these walls built around them, but Nezumi just couldn't find it in himself to be that way towards Shion. It was really unusual.

Shion had jumped into Nezumi, saving his life, and took him home, bandaged him up, and gave him warm clothes.  
He was grateful, but he frowned, understanding that he didn't want to owe Shion anything, and that he would have to leave tomorrow morning. The same thought flickered in his mind as it did before, and usually when it did, he would grow annoyed. This time however, wasn't so.

As if on cue, the credits began to roll and Shion turned off the television set, saying "It's getting late...,"

He yawned, leaning back into the couch as Nezumi glanced over at him.

"You can stay here tonight if you'd like,"

"Sure," Nezumi agreed, looking back through the large window behind him. He had a nice view of the storm outside and wasn't complaining about the comfortable couch or the warm blankets Shion had given him. It was a huge contrast from his mattress on the cold floor of a filthy, broken and cracked loft. It was so different from any place Nezumi had ever been, and something unusual began to spread through his veins as he decided now was a good time to bring forth his offer.  
He felt a weight shift and Shion stood up, about to leave when Nezumi touched his shoulder.

"I can repay you," he said quietly. Nezumi's tone had turned Shion's face red, and he twitched nervously as he scratched his head, laughing. That had been proof enough that Shion hadn't been expected anything in return, and the amount of kindness with this boy made Nezumi's blood boil.

Shion shook his head.

"It's fine, reall-" He paused and felt lips covering his own.

His face heated as Nezumi moved away, staring through half lidded eyes. Shion felt something he hadn't felt since he first saw the city and moved forward, pressing his lips back against Nezumi's. People did this all the time, here, didn't they? What could be so bad about kissing someone they just met? It was new and exciting, and that was the entire purpose of leaving home.

Shion didn't protest the arms that wrapped around him as they nestled under his own, or the scent of wet hair as he inhaled it. He closed his eyes and thought about all of the worst possible outcomes of this decision, before telling himself that he wouldn't let things go too far.

The more he tried to think on it, the more fluid their movements became. He couldn't concentrate.

Nezumi deepened the kiss as he felt arms on his shoulders. _Thank you for saving my life_. He turned slightly red in the darkness as Shion straddled his hips and he cradled him in his arms. _Thank you for being so kind_.

Nezumi had taken Shion's soft mouth and impressed another kiss on it before moving to his neck, licking it. He felt Shion's back arch and he squirmed, holding himself into place as Nezumi made his way to his shoulders, exposing his collarbone.

A gasp escaped his lips and Shion had shut his eyes, lacing his fingers through Nezumi's hair before he felt fingertips rub his spine. He had read about this in textbooks and had seen it on television and in movies, but nothing he thought he knew about it seemed to suffice to this different kind of sense. It was all technical and this was more than black words on white paper.

They opened their eyes as Nezumi parted their liplock, gazing at the man above him. He would have never willingly done this to anyone else. What made this stranger so special? He didn't want to admit that he already knew the answer, or that it was surrounding them.

Shion's eyes were half lidded and his shoulder was exposed. He was breathing heavily and through the darkness, Nezumi could see the hint of a smile on his lips and his insides warmed again.

This was infatuation. It was almost pathetic.

He leaned up to lick Shion's shoulder, and inhaled the scent of his skin as Shion's hands went up his shirt. His fingers grazed the bandages and sent chills down Nezumi's spine, and suddenly driven mad, Nezumi pressed his palms to Shion's stomach.

Trembling under peeling bandages, Nezumi made his way downwards. The way Shion had awkwardly tried to surpress any sounds told him that he didn't do this often, and that, in itself sent a spark reeling through Nezumi. His breathing became heavier and they found their lips moving against eachother again.

The night went on and they continued this until they both felt exhausted.

The shirts were discarded below and some of the bandaids came loose. Shion rested his head between Nezumi's neck and shoulders.

There were arms wrapped tightly around him, and he inhaled the scent of medicine and chocolate as the storm quietly sounded from outside. This embrace was filled with guilt and elation, and he pressed his lips to Shion's hair as he slipped into thought, wondering what he'd just gotten himself into.

He mentally sighed. There was no way he would leave in the morning now. He didn't even know if Shion had a boyfriend or a girlfriend...Or even his last name.

He could have smacked himself in the face.

_Were you really so desperate that you had to come onto the first person who treats you like a human being?_

The thought venomously floated through Nezumi's head. He stared at the ceiling in unease.

At least he wasn't murdered yet.

(by the way, EU: Elyurias University. :3 -throws confetti-)


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you for the reviews3

Disclaimer: I do not own No.6

-and thus, it continues-

Dawn broke through and Shion woke to Nezumi struggling to get dressed.

He winced at the sunlight from his window as he asked wearily, "Leaving so soon?"

Nezumi had held his breath, shaking his head nervously. He had to get away before he looked like a hipocrit to his bandmates.

"I have rehearsal," Nezumi said quickly, slipping into his half dry, soggy clothes. This time, they smelled like fresh detergent, and although he was cold, he wasn't complaining.

Shion sat up, frowning before looking down at his lap and holding the blanket. "I deserve this", he thought, as his lips pursed together.

Nezumi looked back to see the expression of disappointment on his face, and guilt cut through him. No matter what he thought he had to do to keep his word, one thing he wouldn't do was abandon Shion. Even if he barely knew him.

"Shion," Nezumi said. Shion looked up at him hesitantly as his eyes scanned his black clothes and messy hair.

Nezumi found himself smiling as he put his hand out to stroke his ear. His gaze softened, and Shion closed his eyes leaning into it, almost as innocently as a small animal would. His innocence and niavity was dangerous, but Nezumi's heart became swollen in his chest and he smiled, almost laughing as a strange softness cut into his usually angst ridden face.

"I'll see you again tonight," he said quiety. Shion opened his eyes disbelieving Nezumi as Nezumi whispered "To know you more... at sunset, we can talk,"  
Shion slowly nodded before Nezumi leaned in and kissed him. He never in a million years imagined his first would be another male. It was something he hadn't thought about, and the reality of his situation began to sink in as Shion, himself, felt bad.

With a look of loss on his face, Shion's lips curved into a smile, but it wasn't genuine. Nezumi saw through it and tried to feel nothing, but before he could control himself, he felt betrayed as his lips asked "What's wrong?"

Shion smiled as he looked up and laughed. It was an airy, lighthearted laugh, as if practiced. "Nothing," he said, voice now upbeat and pleasantly cheery. It was fake. Nezumi narrowed his eyes, looking away to straighten his bag.

"Nothing?"

"It's really nothing," Shion said quietly. His voice was strangely low, and he didn't want to tell any of his thoughts to this stranger before him.

Shion could already feel his self respect sinking. He didn't know this man for more than a day. Safu would be furious, and his mother would certainly never approve.

As much as he loved trying new things and breaking old habits, this was something much more intimate than a drive through the wrong part of town or living away from home.

Nezumi looked him over and was unsure how to respond, ignorant to Shion's inner turmoil.

He meant everything he'd said so far, but saying something like this when you've just met is really big. He didn't know what to do to make things right, so he clenched his fists as he said quietly "Nothing you feel can ever mean nothing."

Nezumi had never met someone like him, and had never been given hospitality like this, without a burdensome payment. Shion had been confused when he offered himself, and that alone, drew Nezumi in.

Shion turned to look at him and his brown eyes held a self ridicule that Nezumi didn't like seeing in them. They contrasted from the laughing boy in the rain yesterday, and he wanted to bring that boy back to life.

Nezumi then did something uncharacteristic and he couldn't stop himself.

He leaned towards Shion and kissed him again, but this time, as he slipped his tongue between his lips, there was an intensity that the night before lacked. There was a heat that Shion had been only somewhat familiar with, and it now encased him as Nezumi's hands stroaked his hair and pulled him closer and closer until their heartbeats started to merge.

He dared not call it love, _things like this are what made Romeo and Juliet a tragedy_.

Tragically stupid events as this, and although he felt himself becoming more and more out of touch, Nezumi found it easy to forget his conscious.

Shion gasped under the pressure of Nezumi's mouth on his, and the silent sounds of breathing were getting heavier and heavier as they kissed again and again. Each time they did, Shion felt his insides get warm, and then hot, and after a few minutes, he couldn't breath, and silently hoped Nezumi would pin him down.

He felt so ashamed of his thoughts but they were getting blurrier by the minute.

Nezumi pulled away and a small string of saliva followed as he wiped his lips slowly, before tracing his thumb over Shion's.

Shion's chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath, staring at Nezumi, red, flustered, and miraculously weakened.

Nezumi grinned mischieviously before leaning into Shion's ear and purring "That is my promise."

Shion nodded as Nezumi sat up, looking back at him with a smirk.

He had rehearsal today.

He made a promise to return afterwards, to this odd stranger, and he planned to.

As Nezumi left the apartment, scratching at the bandaid on his face, Shion lied back on his couch, licking the corners of his mouth.

He tasted Nezumi on him and it excited him, and he put his thumb over his own mouth just like Nezumi had done.

He looked down to see evidence of the night before.

The sweater he lent Nezumi was inside out on the floor. Their mugs were on the coffee table and he was wrapped in the blanket they shared. It was so unfamiliar to see more than one cup here, or to smell the scent of another person. A stranger. A friend.

Caught up in the moment, Shion forgot that he had class that day, and he knew Safu would be concerned. She had a habit of telling him so, and he didn't doubt that she'd be here later with her notes to do just that. If she knew what had just happened, she would scold him for his decisions, even if he tried to explain them. She would stubbornly refuse to hear him out.

Safu could never know. She would interrogate him for answers he didn't want to answer, and assumptions he didn't want to hear about. It was better to just keep this a secret and let it stay that way for now.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you so so so so so much for the reviews~!

I'm glad people actually like this story ^^

Disclaimer: I do not own No.6

Safu had arrived as expected, paper in hand. Shion took the time to clean his apartment up, and he hid the cups in the sink, knowing she wouldn't over analyze them there.

The blanket was washing, everything was back in order and he looked in the mirror to see if Nezumi had left any marks.

(He wasn't sure how that worked, but he heard of it happening to people. He wanted to check just to be safe.)

Safu knocked on the door, and Shion answered, nearly tripping over something. He didn't have time to see what it was.

"I told you you'd catch cold!"

She looked up at him as he gave him a tan envelope. He only smiled, scratching his nose out of habit.

"I guess you were right, then," he said, as she passed him. He shut the door.

Safu scanned his face as he put the envelope down on the coffee table, and kept her stare as he walked to the kitchen.

"Do you want anything?" He asked. She snapped out of her train of thought.

"Oh-I'm fine, thank you," she said, before feeling something on the heel of her shoe. She looked behind her and on the floor, mostly under the couch was a sweater.

She picked it up.

It was inside out.

"Oh, that!" Shion's smile widened as he came back to the livingroom with a glass of water. Safu was busy turning the sweater right side out.

"That kept me warm last night, I meant to put it away."

She smiled at the fabric as his words sunk in, but she had a strange feeling that he didn't mean them as she wanted him to. She looked back at Shion, asking "You wore this?"

"I did," he lied, before sipping his drink. His face didn't look flushed and he was breathing perfectly fine. Although he had missed class, he didn't have the characteristics of a sick person.

He was too cheery and abnormally amused today. It made her feel uneasy.

She couldn't find any reason why as she stared at the jagged line.

"My grandmother gave this to you the day you came to the city," she said, thoughtfully. Her grandmother had loved to knit and more than anything, she loved to knit for other people.

Safu had grown up with Shion in a rural area before they moved here for college. Safu wanted to expand her horizons and believed Shion wanted the same thing. She let her ambitions lead her to this university, where she had hoped he would notice her.

Instead he was acting suspicously off key today, and the sweater she had given him didn't smell like Shion. It held an unusual musky animal scent that radiated around it, making it noticable. It was unlike anything in Shion's apartment.

Nothing else was out of place except for this, but she only silenced her thoughts. Perhaps she was putting too much emphasis on one small change. After all, he played in the rain yesterday evening.

"Do you remember that day?"

Safu's brown eyes met Shion's, and she held her breath, waiting for an answer.

Shion nodded. "It was my eighteenth birthday," he said, placing the cup on the coffee table.

They sat on his couch, and Safu looked at the glass, and then back at Shion, who was staring at it.

It had been just before the beginning of their fall semester, and he had been invited to Safu's house to help her pack and celebrate his birthday.

There was a cake and they were in a well built house surrounded by fields and open ranges. Safu was lamenting on how she'd miss everyone they knew, from the people in the small stores nearby to her neighbors as they passed eachother on their ways to them.

Safu had hoped to live on her own in a house she made herself, writing books. She studied cells and human reactions; why people did the things they did and acted the way they act. Although her yearn for knowledge had been the push she needed to fly, there was still a part of her longing to keep Shion by her side through school, and her career.

She wanted to one day have a stable income in a career she worked hard for, and to live out here, with him. She wanted more than anything, to raise a family, loving the consistancy and repitition of her life with her grandmother.

She sensed that the city was doing more than giving them access to wider horizons. Shion didn't miss the country as much as she did, did he?

His eyes were still on that glass. He never missed school, even for colds, and the table was cleaner than usual. Everything was more organized than it usually was, and he was being very quiet for a prolongued period of time.

As minutes passed, Safu began to feel something creeping in her stomach and she stood up.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," she smiled, waving. Shion looked up at her, coughing. It sounded forced.

"Thank you for coming by," he said. "I appreciate it!"

Walking through the door, Safu kept her head high and her eyes forward until it shut, and once she heard it locked, she looked to the carpeted hallway, biting her lip.

Something wasn't right. She lightly pushed a small used bandaid with her shoe before walking away.

Her intuition was telling her so.

Kicking the microphone stand, a black boot returned to it's place on the stage floor as a figure with long, dark brown hair strummed the strings of a bass guitar.  
There were footsteps in the dark before a voice sighed, saying "You're missing notes."

Brown eyes glared at Nezumi as he twirled the microphone, staring into the blackness.

The same brown eyes narrowed as they pointed a half gloved finger.

"What is up with you today? First you tell me to be here on time, then you get here late, and through the whole set, all you do is space out! THEN you_ criticize_ my playing!"

A light flickered reflecting from the blade Nezumi had in his hand.

He was picking his nails with the tip of it. The microphone was put back in it's place. The figure blinked incredulously.

"YOU HELP PUT TOGETHER THIS PIECE OF SHIT PROJECT, SPACE OUT, AND NOW YOU'RE ACCUSING **_ME_** OF NOT CONCENTRATING?"

Nezumi nodded as snapped his pocketknife back into place. He had more things on his mind than the consistant barking of an angry mutt.

The man could feel his thoughts ridiculing him and he became furious.

"YOU DAMNED RAT." The man shouted "YOU NEED TO TAKE A GOOD LOOK IN THE MIRROR BEFORE YOU START WITH ME."

Footsteps stomped across the empty floor and a wire caught before an instrument was thrown down inconsiderably. The man who left clenched his fists and spat profanities as he slammed the exit door.

Nezumi only glanced at it, raising an eyebrow. The man went by Inukashi.

Walking across the emptied stage, Nezumi kept himself from stepping on a rat as he lent over and picked up the bass guitar.

If it hadn't been such a cheap purchase from the local pawn shop, perhaps he'd care about it more. After hours of arguing, he lost the ability to pity it's condition.

The stage they practiced on was just another one of the city's ruins. It was no popular venue and certainly not one anyone cared to use, and he figured sooner or later it would be broken down and turned into another bail bonds store.

It had a small bar in the back covered with cobwebs and empty shelves, chairs that were rusted and off color, and was infested with any kind of pestulance possible.

The lights didn't work because no electricity was in service for the building. It was another dead eyesore for drug deals to shadow in, and on more than one occasion, a hotel for the homeless.

That was how Nezumi found it. A wound on his back began to throb as he recalled the first day he stayed here.

He recalled being overwhelmed with the history of the place, and had to fight his way into it when the rain had become too heavy for him to deal with.

He remembered picking up every poster he found and imagining the scenes that used to play here. He stared at the stage for years, pretending that it was still fixed up, caught in a reverie with his overactive imagination.

This place had helped him live this long, and because of it, he found shelter, and when he could, comfort.

Nezumi smiled to himself as he walked towards a doorway. It was hidden by the curtains.

The door swung open and he walked inside, putting the lamp down. The inside of the room was filled with stacks and stacks of cassettes and records. It was large enough to hold libraries and libraries of them, and in the center of them all was a matress on the floor, where Nezumi slept.

Because this was inside a building, the door to outside only led to the stage. It was far enough away from the broken windows that he was kept cool in the summer and warm in the winter.

There was no need for a blanket.

He was thankful that he could be so lucky, knowing of people who would get too cold or die of heat strokes. He truly cared for this room, which he guessed was what used to be backstage.

The lamp's flame flickered.

On the walls were ads and posters of musicians whom had played here before. Everything from folk music to the local bands, which played on the other side of town. Whenever he could, Nezumi would sneak into their shows and watch them, soaking in the atmosphere he wanted so badly to be apart of.

They all had something he couldn't have and the jelousy burned through him but he never thought to express it. Instead he only found mediocre bandmates to try and play the songs he worked on, but each and every time, they would become irritated and quit. They all had things they'd rather do, much better aspirations than this.

In their eyes he must have looked pathetic living in an abandoned building, jobless,yet still having the nerve to keep a sharp tongue.

The thing keeping him from leaving had been his situation. How he found this place, how he managed to live here for so long.

Shutting the door, Nezumi stepped over discarded magazines and books, snapped strings and chipped drumsticks.

He lied on the matress looking up and he felt something on his back throb. How did an eighteen year old become orphaned in an unsanitary place like this? Where were his parents?

The pain throbbed more.

He shut his eyes as he opened his mouth to sing. Words came together and formed a song. The same song he always sang whenever he felt empty.

_ The wind sweeps away souls and people snatch away hearts..._

His mouth shut. He was almost caught in another spell and knowingly, he froze.

That song was dangerous and he only sung it when he reached a place, mentally, that he forced himself to shut out.

Blowing out the lamp, Nezumi walked outside, locking the door as he hid it under worn velvet and debris.

He would go distract himself by keeping his promise to that stranger.

It was better than being alone in that room, with that song echoeing through his head. He jumped from the stage to a concrete floor, and walked faster.

It was dangerous to be alone right now.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own No.6.

Now is when things actually get started. Because I made Nezumi a music junkie instead of someone obsessed with books, that means that I'm reversing the roles of music and reading in this AU. He quotes alot of different bands and musicians instead of books, but he does enjoy reading when he can. Don't worry, he's pretty much the same Nezumi... I just flipped his interests.

xoxoxoxo

There was a knock on the door. Shion, who spent his afternoon looking over the papers in his hands, sat them down as he got up to answer it. He hoped it was Safu, only so he could ask her why she left looking uneasy.

He was more eager to see Nezumi again, though. Something filled his chest with warmth, and he tried to place a name to the feeling, but couldn't figure one out. It was like nothing he ever felt for anyone else, and he assumed it was because of what they did the night before.

The door opened. Nezumi leaned against his doorframe in the same clothes he left in. They looked sunscorched and wrinkled, and his hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Shion smiled at him as if they were close friends. It made Nezumi uncomfortable.

"You came back," he said happily. Nezumi nodded. "_I do need an easy friend with an ear to lend_."

The words sounded strangely poetic, but they were spoken and not sung. They had a rhythem to them, and Shion caught on. He blinked. What unusual sentence structure.

"What does that mean?" Shion looked up at him in confusion. Nezumi only shook his head. "You don't listen to many bands, do you?"

"I listen to whatever comes on the radio now and then..."

"Then I've come just in time," he smiled. Shion caught his eyes and stepped aside to let him in before shutting the door. Nezumi stood beside the same shelf he did the night before, looking at the same pictures. He was still trying to shake off the feeling he had just minutes ago.

Shion asked "Can I get you anything? Are your cuts still hurting?"

"No," he said, tugging at the peeling bandaid on his face. They only felt like papercuts and minor scratches.

It wasn't as though he had a limb sawed off.

However, Nezumi's throat felt dry from earlier. He asked ,"Would a glass of water be a bit much?"

Shion shook his head. "Not at all. Uh..." he tried to control himself. He didn't realize he'd be this caught up in Nezumi's prescence. What more did he have to worry about if they already became intimate? The thought flashed through his head and he swallowed a lump in his throat.

He pulled a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the faucet as he tried to control his heartbeat. The man in his apartment wore rugged clothes and he was a mystery in how he acted. He was nothing like any of the people Shion knew back home, and his eyes were grey. It was if he had walked out of some movie and into reality.

Shion saved him from a bus, and the man stayed one night, and already in that one night, Shion had changed.

He was so full of things Shion knew nothing about, and awoke different feelings from him in such a short time. It was amazing. He only became more and more curious as if Nezumi were the flame to Shion's moth.

Returning to the livingroom, he handed Nezumi the glass. Nezumi was leaning into the couch.

"You...listen to alot of music, right?" Shion asked excitedly. He acted as if he were a child, and wanted to know everything he could about this man.

Nezumi shook his head, to Shion's surprise. "No, I do not." He said quietly.

That answer didn't sound right. Shion thought more on it, before asking "Then why did you ask me if I did?"

It made absolutely no sense. He could have sworn that was a hint to their next conversation.

"Oh, I couldn't begin to guess why." Nezumi sipped the water, calmly. A smile played on the ends of his lips.

Before Shion could make sense of his response,he recognized the sarcasm. Shion exhaled, falling onto the couch beside Nezumi.

Nezumi laughed.

"You shouldn't ask questions if you already know the answers."

Shion looked at him and sighed, throwing himself into the back of the couch. He leaned in it like Nezumi did and kept his eyes locked on Nezumi's profile.

Nezumi could see him in his peripheral vision and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Do you like what you see?" He asked, setting the glass down. He tried to make his voice sound flirtatious, but it was strained.

Shion stayed quiet for a few more seconds before saying "I want to know more about you..."

"That's why I came back," Nezumi said. "It would be a shame to leave you behind after a night like that."

Shion's face turned red and he bit his lip. Guilt was still in his stomach for what they had done, but his curiosity overshadowed it and he quickly asked "What's your last name?"

The pain in Nezumi's back throbbed and he thought about it before picking up the glass of water and drinking it again. He didn't turn towards Shion.

Shion said, excitedly, "If it's a bad one, you don't have to worry. I can tell you mine."

Memories came back and flickered through Nezumi's mind. That's what led him to returning here in the first place.

A song he didn't want to sing swelled in the back of his throat and constricted his chest as he stared forward, unable to grasp reality. This was exactly why he came all the way to this apartment, to a boy who acted kindly towards him. Now that he had finally asked a question, Nezumi realized it was the only one he couldn't give an answer to.

Nezumi shook his head, shaking off the negative thinking.

"You can't unhear something after it's been told...," his voice was quieter and he sounded distant. Shion leaned forward, resting his head in his hand, as he asked "Why?"

Nezumi looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Wasn't that answer obvious?

He looked over Shion's shoulder, to the awards near the door, and began to question if they were really real. For someone who was as intelligent as that, Shion was very curious and his personality was somewhat child-like. It was a contradiction to the framed declarations of knowledge all hung in neat rows, with ribbons and trophies.

He thought up some words to say but didn't know Shion well enough to use them so his mouth opened to speak, but closed right after.

Before he could give a proper retort, Shion changed the subject.

"Do you play music?"

The magic question. Those words were the gates to opening Nezumi's thoughts and he pepared himself for a rant he wasn't sure about making.

Nodding, Nezumi said "That's all I do. It's the only thing I have right now."

It was the only thing keeping him sane. All he could do in that abandoned theater was pray for a band and create music. It was all he could do to distract himself from thinking as though his life had lost all of it's purpose.

Music was the bandaid that covered something broken inside of him. Nezumi almost got lost in another negative wave of thinking, but unbeknownst to him, Shion's eyes lit with more curiosity as he asked excitedly "Can you sing?"

Nezumi, being one to run from his thoughts, found this to be the perfect chance. He stood up and grabbed Shion's hand as he cleared his throat. Shion stared at Nezumi with awe as a sound escaped his lips.

It was the perfect occasion to work his acting skills. His entire persona changed, and Shion watched as it did, listening intently.

"_Time is never time at all_," Nezumi hummed, hands clasped with Shion's. The melody felt so familiar, but so different. He wondered if he had heard the song before.

Nezumi spun Shion and pulled him forward as he continued "_You can never ever leave without leaving a piece of youth_,"

_And our lives are forever changed_

_We will never be the same_

_The more you change the less you feel_

_Believe, believe in me, believe_

A spontanious little act like that would hopefully make Shion forget all about Nezumi's dimmed mood. He didn't want to be asked anything about his past, just music, if possible. Music and the books he read. The song was soft enough to keep this Shion person at bay with gentle lyrics and a positive tune.

He continued to sing, thinking about the lyrics and when he first heard the song. How popular it used to be, and the memories it brought back. He memorized the entire album and the pictures were on his walls, and on particular bad days he would sing it quietly to himself or create a song similar to it.

_A song can help you forget the pain temporarily, but a song will never save anyone._

Nezumi felt as though he were sinking himself. He came back, and already, he acted unlike who he spent so long trying to be. It was a foolish move to make a promise to this stranger and even more of a foolish move to tell the stranger that they could talk about themselves to eachother.

This was unlike anything he had ever done before and he hated himself for even being here. Though the man did give Nezumi care when he needed it, he felt as if his body was betraying him more and more each time they met.

Nezumi did not sing to strangers. Nezumi did not go to strangers' houses and drink their water. Nezumi did not sleep with strangers. He recalled that morning and he looked down. Nezumi also didn't make promises to strangers about coming back.

Nezumi was meant to only make music and keep to himself. That was his intention, but before he knew it, he realized why it was so easy to forget that when Shion was nearby and he cringed on the inside at his terribly cliche'd predicament.

He was infatuated.

Still singing, he kept his smile and Shion applauded him. They were acting as if they had known eachother before. It felt somewhat nostalgic.

Shion's brown eyes were beautiful, and the way the sunset glistened against his hair through the window was ethereal.

Nezumi could have rolled his eyes at the words coming from his head, but if he did, Shion would wonder why, so he only continued to sing.

He changed the songs as he got lost in the moment.

This was becoming poorly thought out, very quickly, but as Shion looked at him, he wondered what was so bad about that.

Shion pulled him by his hands as he asked "Can you stay another night?"

That was how the beginning of the inevitable end, began. That question was a question of fate.

xxxxxxxx

So, the song Nezumi was singing was "Tonight, Tonght" by the Smashing Pumpkins. I always read fics where he refers to "Shattered" and people are like "YAY", so I was like "hm... Smashing Pumpkins are pretty iconic in music." Then, when he was at the door, he quoted Nirvana with "About A Girl".

I also need to brainstorm a good conflict. I have one in mind where something happens and they end up staying with eachother, but I just need to find the right way to write it.

More to come, thank you for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

Aloha, howdy, bonjour, guten nacht/guten morgan, ahoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own No.6... I also don't own the bands mentioned. I don't own the songs quoted.

xoxoxoxoxo

The night progressed as expected. Shion had his questions and Nezumi sifted through the appropriate answers. They talked about every single musician from The Beatles to Pencey Prep, and discussed music, music history, how certain genres had started, and bands Nezumi deemed legendary.

Shion, not being one to know much about music, had only made an oath to listen to as many songs as he could. He was now fascinated with this brand new thing he had yet to experience. This was only after he realized that he'd never been exposed to anything like this, and had only spent his time working on academics.

With every conversation they had, and every album Nezumi discussed with great passion, Shion found himself becoming more and more fond of this city. He sighed contently, leaning in his couch as he rested his mind for a bit.

He had never been more thankful to leave home.

Nezumi spoke.

"Aren't you a bit careless?"

Shion opened his eyes and looked at Nezumi as though he had said something unusual. Shion sat up.

"Why would I be careless?"

"You don't even know me." Nezumi looked at him with a serious face as he leaned his cheek into his hand. Shion saw how his grey eyes had become like steel, and he couldn't look away.

"I like to think that we could know eachother..."

Having been one to fall into his own optimism, Shion was completely honest. He did think that they could get to know eachother, and he did sense the beginning of a friendship. He hadn't had the experience most people did with social interactions, but he felt as though he were a good judge of character.

He did have to admit that it was kind of sloppy to bring a man into his home and have sex with him on the first night. Shion cleared his throat pushing away those thoughts.

"Aren't you scared?"

Nezumi's voice settled in the silence. It was neither threatening, nor warm, but instead felt like a warning. Not of anything he could do, but of life, itself. Shion wondered how he could even think that way.

Fear of just knowing people? Why would such a thing exist? It seemed so absurd.

"No,"

Shion turned towards Nezumi, brown eyes filled with sincerety. Nezumi's expression almost softened, but he held his stare as Shion spoke.

"You're kind and funny. You know so much about music...," he then looked away, clasping his fingers together. "and you're the first one who...,"

His face turned red and he laughed nervously. Nezumi only looked at him for a few more moments until he finally realized what Shion had meant by that.

Nezumi's eyes widened. He stood up.

"THE _FIRST_?"

Shion looked up at Nezumi as he grabbed him by the collar. "You never met me, brought me into your house, and you let me..."

"It's not a bad thing," Shion said quietly. He sounded so sure of himself. Nezumi shook his head as he let him go.

"I don't understand you!"

As he yelled, his voice held less intensity and more regret. He silenced and plopped back on the couch with his hands covering his face.

Shion touched his arm, but Nezumi shook it away.

"You're not angry with me, are you...Nezumi?"

Nezumi shook his head. "I'm angry with myself. Something like that should be protected! Special! _Intimate_!"

As the feeling of sickness crept through Nezumi's insides, Shion found himself more and more drawn to him. For reasons he couldn't understand, as illogical as it seemed, he felt as though they had known eachother for more than just one day, and he tightened his lips as he willed them to keep quiet.

Those grey eyes were so familiar, Shion felt as though they were like a typhoon. He saw them as they stared at the ceiling in irritation, and his brown eyes became serene. His hand touched Nezumi's as it clenched the cushion of his couch. His knuckles were turning white.

"I came here to try new things," Shion said quietly. He was now looking down at their fingers, laced. Nezumi smiled sarcastically.

"and_ oh, did you_."

"I can't live a life of repitition...," His voice was serious. his hold on Nezumi's hand became locked and Nezumi's smile went away. He stared at Shion as he listened.

"I don't think living a life should depend on what grades you make, or repeating the same cycle until you grow old... I want to feel the world around me, and become apart of it. I want to exist in this world and be spontanious..."

"what you're wanting is a pipe dream." Nezumi scoffed. Shion took his hand away.

"All of this 'free living' bullshit is going to get you hurt in a city like this. Did you only want me for an adrenaline rush?"

His eyes flickered as he gave a sideways glance to Shion. This was a side of Nezumi he hadn't yet seen. He glared.

"I came here to find myself."

"Sounds like another one of those cliche'd movie characters,"

Nezumi whistled. "You talk like a girl with mommy and daddy's trust fund, out to find herself a prince charming and a dance number."

"Can you dance?" Shion asked. If Nezumi was drinking anything, this would be the moment where he spat it out.

"That's not a title to be proud of," He said, cracking a smile. "You really want to be known as the niave type in a big world, to learn a lesson a million others before you have, and all the while, focus your main priorities on your love life?"

Shion's eyes locked with Nezumi's again. They held defiance.

"I find nothing wrong with that. Those movies hold depth to them."

Nezumi shook his head, amused. This guy was too much. All of their conversations about Glenn Danzig and Bach had led them to this. He couldn't believe what he had just heard, and chuckled.

"The only thing deep in those overdone clich'es, is the amount of debt they must have to resort to using the same soundtracks."

"I wouldn't know," Shion said, averting his gaze to blankly stare at the television set. "I never paid much attention."

Nezumi stood up again, with a hand on his chest. He looked as though he were an actor about to perform the finest of shows, and Shion was enthralled to be apart of the audience.

He enjoyed it so much the last time Nezumi sang. Perhaps he would sing again.

"_Makin' my way downtown, walkin' fast, faces pass and I'm home bound_," He sang, as he made over exaggerated gestures of fragileness and perkiness. Shion's eyes widened. He grinned, pointing at Nezumi.

"That one! I've heard that one before!"

Nezumi sighed, placing a palm to his forehead. He was giving himself a headache. "I would imagine, it seems to be the melody to your big awakening,"

"Are you making fun of me?"

Shion felt as though Nezumi were mocking him, and for as interesting as he was, Shion was not going to sit around and let it happen. Nezumi walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"No, your royal highness." He took a bow and met Shion at eye level with a smirk. "Why would I do such a thing?"

xoxo

The next morning, Shion had left for class without waking Nezumi. Instead Nezumi only saw a sticky note with the words "be back soon!" scrawled on them in perminant marker, stuck to the coffee table.

He stretched from his place on the couch and thought about the night before. Once again they found themselves in a compromising position, but after realizing that Shion had lost his virginity to him, Nezumi couldn't find it in himself to be as bold as he was before.

They only lied next to eachother as though they were simply friends, and not lovers. Wiping the drool from his lip, Nezumi had wondered when the term "friend" even became an appropriate description. The term "lovers" bothered him more so. Seemed a bit melodramatic for their "relationship".

Through the balcony window, Nezumi saw white clouds in the sky and a vision flashed through his mind. A boy with white hair and red eyes.

He lied back down and stared at the ceiling as he pondered it. That's exactly right, he had a dream about him again last night.

The boy would always appear when Nezumi least expected it and they were always doing things that were abnormal and strange. There was a library of books, three little rats and an alternative universe full of killer bees and corrupt cities.

Somehow he was proud that his brain could create something that articulate. It would make for a good novel.

The boy had no name or face, but would read books with him in this underground room, and once they even kissed.

It was strange. Having no belief in fate or anything of that nature, Nezumi refused to accept any explanation for it. The dream was just a dream he subciously created out of his lonliness.

Maybe it appeared again because Shion had walked into his life. As he thought about it, Shion did act almost like the boy, but it didn't make sense. Shion's hair was brown and his eyes were brown, too. There were no signs that they would have been the same person, and many people had that kind of personality.

To come up with a conclusion like that was stupid, Nezumi thought. It was making an assumption about a stranger who probably couldn't name The Cure's first album, let alone, quote it.

Why would he have dreams about someone like him? It made no sense.

xoxoxo

"Shion!"

Shion turned around to see Safu waving at him from a fountain. The sun was shining bright and by the looks of it, she had been on break, out here. He waved in return.

"Afternoon," he said.

"I was going to tell you this sooner, but I think now would be the time," she said. Shion tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"Could you join me for coffee?" Safu asked. Shion looked at his car with anticipation, but decided one minor detour wouldn't hurt anything. He hoped Nezumi hadn't left.

Shion was really looking forward to talking with him again, and had become distracted all morning during lectures, because of that.

He finally reached the point of his afternoon where he could go home, and Safu wanted to tell him something important. He supposed he could wait...

Safu grabbed him by the arm as she led him across the courtyard. "You've been spacing out lately!" She said playfully. Shion scratched his head. "Yeah... about that. I just have alot of work on my mind."

As they walked, Safu's smile faded and she kept her face forward. That wasn't the expression of an overworked student...

They made their way past other students and another parkinglot, and finally reached the street. Safu looked to Shion.

"I told you I was transferring to a better school upstate," she said happily. "Aren't you excited?"

"Certainly!" Shion grinned, stepping off of the curb. "I really am. You've worked really hard to get there, I'm so proud of you."

They found their way across the street as Safu said "I told you I switched my major to biology. That means I'm going to have to do alot more work than I did before,"

"Don't overwork yourself too hard," Shion opened a glass door. Safu walked passed him.

"Oh, I'll work so hard, the other students won't know what to do with me!"

They reached a counter . The place was filled with students on their laptops and flipping through textbooks.

The small line was only becoming smaller very quickly, and as they reached the counter, Shion had become distracted trying to find a place to sit. Safu's voice rang through his train of thought.

"two frappacinos, please! Both vanilla!"

She set a bill on the counter and the lady behind it, took it. Shion became uneasy.

"I could have paid for it myself," he said. Safu shook her head. "I'm going to do this for you, Shion. I brought you here because I wanted to ask you something."

Her voice was a contrast from the upbeat Safu he heard just minutes ago. As they waited for their drinks, he started wondering what could be so important, she'd have to formally take him out for coffee just to say it.

As they were given their orders, Safu led the way to a small table for two in the back. She set her drink down and waited for Shion to be seated. As she did so, her expression became serious.

"So...what was it you wanted to say," Shion asked. He wasn;t sure if he could drink anything at the moment. The wait for this news made him feel nervous, and seeing Safu so quiet worried him. She didn't answer right away.

"I wanted to celebrate going upstate tomorrow," she said. He looked at her in confusion. A celebration was meant to be happy, but Safu seemed to look anything but. It was surprising to him after knowing she had waited so long for this transfer.

He tried to make her feel better.

"Then we should celebrate! To the future!"

Shion raised his drink to make a toast but Safu only smiled at him. He sat his drink down as he watched her lips curve downwards. His head lowered as he kept his eyes on her.

"Safu...?"

"Sex." Safu said quietly. Shion blinked in confusion before looking around nervously. He felt his face heat.

"...what about it?" he asked as he laughed out of fear. Safu's eyes met his. They were intimidating and he felt like they could see through him. He coughed.

"I want to have sex with you."

Shion stared at her in stunned silence. Safu spoke loud enough for only them to hear her, but it felt much louder. Shion swallowed the lump in his throat and pushed the drink away.

Safu spoke again.

"I want to have sex with you. Tonight."

"I...," Shion scratched his head, shutting his eyes. Nezumi flashed through his head and he felt guilty. "I can't."

His voice was quiet.

Safu laughed in disbelief. "You're not attracted to me?"

"No... no it's not like that...," Shion put his hands up as if he were calling a truce. Safu sipped her coffee as she gave his face a once over. Shion's eyes lowered as he said quietly "I just can't."

"There's someone else, isn't there."

The question settled in the air as if it were dust on a shelf. Shion's eyes dimmed as he looked away again, avoiding Safu's stare. He could feel her frustration with him, and it bothered him to know he made her feel his way.

Especially because of someone he's recently met.

He never guessed safu could have such intimate feelings for him, and that also caught him off of his guard. He didn't know how else to respond. Safu stood up.

"I knew it. There is someone else," she left her drink on the table. Shion watched her walk across the shop. "Wait! Safu!"

"I'm not mad," she said softly. Her hand was on the door, and she pushed it open. Shion ran to her with her drink in his hand, barely dodging a nearby table.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly "it's not that I don't like you...I just..."

"I get it." Safu whispered. Her eyes were hidden underneath her bangs.

She walked through the door and into the street as Shion shouted "Safu, wait! Your drink!"

She didn't look back at him.

"I'm not thirsty."

xoxo


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own No.6,

A/N: Hi. It's been a hectic week and it's only getting more hectic.

The story is all jumbled. I have ideas though so maybe I won't update as often but this will be updated. Maybe once a week.

Stuff keeps coming up. anyways, if you can see this, thank you for reading.

-Ashley.

xoxoxoxoxo

Days progressed and Shion had taken Nezumi in, but the longer he stayed, the more uneasy he felt. Neither talked about Safu and there was an unsettling silence in the air.

An afternoon of walking back to the theater had only led Nezumi elsewhere soon after.

A boot stepped through a crooked loft. A boy with long hair looked over his shoulder.

"You crooked two string banjo!" He shouted. "Why would you just walk into someone's place?!"

Nezumi crossed his arms. "I came here to ask you about something."

The boy stood up, facing Nezumi. He put a hand on his hip.

"Why don't you get a job instead of mooching off of my paycheck," he said, tossing Nezumi a crumpled bill. The bill landed at his feet. Nezumi didn't pick it up.

"It's not that." He said quietly. Inukashi looked concerned before shaking it off.

"If it's about practice, you can shut your mouth! I did my best!"

Nezumi shook his head again. "It's not about that either... I need to ask you a favor."

They stared eachother down as more eyes emerged from the shadows. Nezumi recognized them and didn't step back as he held his stare, and Inukashi clenched his fists. He laughed.

"Well, then spill it. Some of us have jobs, you know."

"Has anyone been to my theater while I was away."

Inukashi shrugged again. "I don't know. I'm not it's babysitter. I went back to get my instrument and I noticed you were missing."

His voice sounded as though he were accusing Nezumi of something. What that was, Nezumi couldn't guess.

Nezumi dug in his pockets and took out a notice.

"This." He said angrilly. He threw it at Inukashi, in the form of a crumpled ball, and Inukashi shouted as it whacked him in the face. He quickly picked it up from the floor and ripped it as he angrilly opened the paper.

A notice.

Inukashi's expression went blank as he looked up at Nezumi.

"This means..."

"I'm fucked." Nezumi said quietly.

Inukashi held no sarcastic retort, but instead vague sympathy. He looked away. "I'm sorry about that."

Nezumi turned around. "You work as a janitor for city hall,"

Inukashi stood up and shook his head. "Oh no! I'm not getting my ass fired for sticking my nose where it doesn't belong! I'm just your bass player, not your bitch!"

Nezumi's eyes held a spark of intimidation. He looked over his shoulder and stared Inukashi in the eyes in a way that always made Inukashi feel nervous. Sweat rolled down his neck as he backed away. The sound of dogs growling from the back echoed through the small loft.

Nezumi spoke.

"You and I both lived in these places illegally. We can't afford to sustain ourselves because of our situations. We're practically orphaned, and you're hanging by a thread."

His voice was cold. Inukashi pointed at him. "I at least have a job! What did you do?!"

"I wrote music." He said venomously. "Music that helped your mother sleep."

The room went cold. Silence settled in the air and Inukashi was now furious.

"What are you trying to ask of me anyways?! That kind of job isn;t fit for a janitor, I just mop and I'm done! You really think those country club bigots are going to listen to anything I have to say?!

That theater was notorious for drug deals and prostitution pickups! There's nothing I can do!"

Nezumi nodded as he walked to the door.

"Just as I thought. You really are a mangey mutt."

Inukashi's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He stood in shock as the door slammed. Nezumi was gone.

He looked back at the paper and cringed. He hated doing that rat's dirty work.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own No.6.

xoxo

Silence was like a plague that seemed to wash over barely standing one story buildings. The bricks were so aged and worn that they held some kind of mold on the cracked edges. This was what it was like downtown, in the city's center.

Past all the bright lights and glamour, this is what it really was. A huge glamourous toy for the artistic, pretentious and fucked over.

Nezumi walked through it with irritation playing over his face. He didn't know what bothered him more, the fact that his theater was about to become rubble or the fact that Inukashi gave no fucks about it whatsoever. The nerve of that guy.

As he walked off the curb and onto the streets, there was a sign taped to a streetlight. He walked past it at first, but then took a few steps back o examine the paper.

He ripped it from it's place and stared at it, scanning the words over and over.

"fuck..." Nezumi bit his bottom lip. The city was going to turn his only refuge into another shitty bail bonds business.

He crumpled the paper and threw it. Although he gave the object alot of force, it still didn't hit the ground hard enough. It didn;t break.

His insides went cold and he stopped walking as he came to really understand what was going on. He would be homeless again.

Not wanting to impose on Shion anymore than he already had, he started over analyzing the entie situation. People grumbled and whispered their insults and slurs as they trudged around Nezumi, who blocked the flow of the sidewalk.

He was staring at the ground saying nothing, lost inside his head. The severity of this conflict was sinking him back into a place he did not want to return to.

_oh souls... oh hearts... oh love, oh yearning..._

Nezumi ran. He ran as fast as he could to that building, and would break through it to get inside. He didn't have much time, but what little time he did have left, he wanted to save some things from that place. Some irreplacable things that changed his life, though if he had to say that phrase out loud, he'd scoff at his own melodramatics.

Now wasn't the time for any of that, though.

Shion was home alone and he expected Nezumi to be here. After the talk with Safu, he felt guilty for how he treated her. She was his best friend, and he was still so blind to her advances. Nezumi had only known him for a week, and yet Shion was so fascinated by this man that he'd broken her heart, and he knew nothing he could say or do could make anything hurt less.

Their ideas of the future did differ. Safu was like a bird whom loved to spread her wings only to return to her cage. Shion would rather travel the world and see everything there was to see. He couldn't maintain stability and repitition. It drove him absolutely insane.

Rubbing his temple, something came to him at random. Music... he wanted to hear music. Of what, he wasn't sure. He realized he had a craving for something he hadn't discovered yet.

Struck with an idea of curiosity, Shion's eyes brightened as he grabbed his keys. All the negative feelings disappated ridiculously fast as he got up and smiled to himself. Somehow, though Nezumi was absent, he trusted that he would return.

That being said, Shion was looking to impress him. He really was all he could think about all day.

all of the bands Nezumi could name, all of the songs he sang, seemingly comfortable with himself and his organized chaotic life. This stranger.

Taking risks and learning new things were apart of Shion's new routine here, and when he found Nezumi, what was only mere infatuation had become an observative wonder. Probably stronger than that.

This man seemed to mirror everything Shion saw as fullfilling in life. He had alot of knowledge and carried it well. He had no set direction but he knew where he wanted to be.

Every conversation they had seemed to become more and more passionate about chords and notes and lyrics. Shion was excited.

He found his niche and suddenly all of the studies for Ecology seemed so useless and dulled.

Shion stopped himself as he stepped through the door. There was nothing left to say. For as furiously brilliant the bonfire in his heart shined, Shion had a wise enough judgement to understand this could just be his infatuation screaming at him.

He locked his apartment and left a stickynote on the door.

_ "be back in a bit."_

xxxx

The small room hadn;t been discovered. More than likely, the people organizing the deconstruction of this place hadn;t even been inside it. There was so much to cherish, but to them, this was just another disposable piece of lost profit.

Nezumi sat on the mattress with the dim lamplight as he took in the sight of the walls. All of the papers covering them and all the records, cds and cassettes were comforting. When the thoughts in his head became too loud, he always relied on everything in this room to make it all go away, and he now sat here, understanding that this may be the last time he'd ever take shelter there.

He would have to grab everything he owned and find another place to live... but the thing was, he had nowhere to go.

Shion was a fascinating piece of work, but he could not burden the guy anymore than he already had. Nezumi refused. Each time he tried to conjure his thoughts to leave, Shion only gave him this look and Nezumi swore he saw glimpses of white hair or scars upon waking or falling asleep.

It was an eerie force drawing them together, and Nezumi couldn;t shake it off. He didn't understand it and it scared him how easily he;d already begun to rely on him.

He had learned in the past week that Shion was more intelligent than he acted; he had high ranks at school and worked his way to this place from a rural home somewhere a few hours away.

Shion had a love for exploration and life. He seemed so innocent and niave, it was almost laughable, but Nezumi couldn't find it in himself to insult Shion. He tried so hard to prove a point to himself, but his words fell short.

There was a crack. Loud enough to sound through the doors. More than likely a construction worker would be here to spray paint symbols on things. Nezumi froze and held his breath as his nerves began to shake.

The crack was probably just someone opening the door with force, but for some reason, a feeling that the person on the other side was a high authority for a crooked institution wouldn;t leave his thoughts.

Nezumi peered through a crack in the door quietly as he watched the highlighter orange vest walk back and forth through the place.

The man was portly, of average height and was dressed in wornout jeans and a grey tee shirt.

He didn't hold the same sternness as the suited men in Nezumi's head. Nezumi bit his lip, angrilly. He was scaring himself with his imagination. Those dreams were at it again.

Grabbing a fistful of tapes, he shoved them in his pockets. Nezumi wrapped the cds and cassettes in his jacket, and grabbed handfuls of records from beside him. Those were under his arm.

He fixed everything in a way that made it easier for him to carry it as he walked over to a case against the wall. Nezumi stepped over the lamp and stooped down to grab his guitar.

He would have to leave everything else behind or risk getting fined.

As soon as the vest disappeared, Nezumi stepped on the lamp and the light went out in a flash.

With a heavy weight on his chest, he bit his lip as he said silent goodbyes to the walls around him. He took everything he could, but this place was now another memory for the city to shit on.

Another place for wayward bail bonds.

As he walked, the song crept through his head even more and he hummed it.

_ please return to this place, _

_and abide here forever._

xoxoxo


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I still don't own no.6.

A/N: I apologize for the slower updates. I'm really really trying to make this a cool story but music just _asdfghjklmychemicalromaaaaance_.

*snaps fingers*

*sparkling word documents appear*

HUZZAH!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Wondering where Nezumi could have gone to only crossed Shion's mind twice as he walked across the street. Seeing as to how close to the main streets his apartment was, he decided today was pleasant for walking and he lifted his arms in the air to embrace the sunlight.

Something was unusual about everything. He knew he should feel differently; or so he assumed that's what he should feel, but he couldn't find it in himself to not smile right now. Something was alive inside him and he walked, pondering the perfect cure for this ailment.

People passed by on their phones or staring forward, not concerned with anyone but themselves. Shion noticed them all, and he was fascinated with how different each and every person was. The expressions they made, the clothes they wore, the laughter, talking and silence, all moving at once.

It was beautiful. It wasn' like watching the grass sway in the breeze or empty skies from a pasture; so many people and things moving together at once was what being alive felt like. It was cramped and he was only pushed or elbowed twice, but Shion didn't hide the grin on his face.

Today he wanted o find music.

Nezumi had become a good friend of his; or at least Shion liked to think so. Every conversation they had was interesting, but behind the words he sensed something unusual. Whatever that negative thing was, Shion hoped coming back with a few cds would make it stop.

Maybe Nezumi would be proud... but what kind of music would he listen to? Shion couldn't remember many of the musicians or songs he quoted, just the words he'd say after the fact. Glancing through the windows of a record shop, Shion's eyes scanned the shelves and the posters inside.

It was all so interesting. Some things he recognized, others, he didn't.

He made his way to the door and pulled it open. The inside was slightly cool. A man sitting at the checkout counter looked up from a Fangoria magazine and pursed his lips before adjusting his sunglasses and flipping a page.

Shion's heart stopped.

This entire place was so obscure; how did he not know this kind of thing existed? The walls were covered in posters. The Beatles, Green Day, Motorhead.

Shion blinked. Those bands didn't seem like Nezumi, but the musicians on them were so artistic looking. He walked passed a cassette shelf (his stereo only played cds), and walked to a cd rack.

"Nirvana..." Shion picked up the album, recalling Nezumi mentioning their name before. There was a baby on it. He blinked in awe.

That must have been quite a feat to shoot. The child seemed content swimming underwater with a dollar, but from the picture, he couldn't tell what this would sound like.

He flipped it over and scanned the tracklist.

"Smells Like Teen Spirit?..." Shion mumbled to himself. Teen Spirit? Perhaps this band was cheerful. It didn't add up, though, for Nezumi's tastes..

Then again, it was very extensive. He continued wondering until he reached "Territorial Pissings". He flipped the cd back over and stared at it blankly.

That kind of title seemed like this band had more to offer than something like "spirit". It sounded angry. Perhaps Nezumi would be proud of this perchase. He was going to buy it.

That was when something else caught his eyes. He held the cd in his hands as he turned the rack, and he found the object of his gaze.

Something drew him closer to it and he bit his lip as his heart sped up.

"Bitter & Sweet" he read aloud. His voice was soft and as he read the artist name, his face turned slightly red. It was as though he had seen this somewhere before, though he wasn't sure where, and the feeling the nostalgia he wasn't sure he felt, made him think of Nezumi.

"Aimer," he breathed.

He made up his mind and smiled widely at the albums in his hands. The man at the desk was now staring at him, leaning into his hands.

"You gonna buy those or are you just gonna flirt with 'em?"

"OH!" Shion flushed, grinning awkwardly. "I'm sorry! I just found these bands to be cool is all!"

Shion set down the albums for the man to see. The man scanned them at the counter and then took off his glasses to give Shion an odd stare. Shion tilted his head in confusion.

(Apparently smiling at a cd with two kissing girls sent bad vibes to people unaware of Shion's inner monologue.)

He gave Shion the bag as Shion gave him the money.

"You have a good day...," The man said, scratching his hair. Shion nodded, saying "you too," as he stepped out.

His heart was racing and he took the Aimer album from the bag and looked at the tracklist.

Something about this was so familiar he could almost touch the memory, but he couldn't figure out where it had come from. Safu had listened to music around him once or twice. Maybe this was one of the artists she liked?

That didn't seem right... he scanned his memories. His mother also loved music, but that didn't sound right. He probably heard it on the radio, but he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he didn't have time to study anything else in the store after he found this.

Something was pulling him towards his stereo and Shion felt like he was drowning. His only oxygen would be hearing the music.

It just felt so right.

He put the album back in the bag and took a deep breath.

He didn't have time to wait and waddle in between slow walkers on their afternoon commute.

Maybe Nezumi was waiting for him. Shion bit his lip and broke into a sprint.

xoxoxo

Nezumi was sitting outside of Shion's apartment with a troubled look on his face. Shion jogged to him waving but his smile faded as he came closer.

"Nezumi?"

Nezumi was sitting with large record cases leaning against his knees and a handful of tapes and albums in his hands. Nezumi shook off the look and gave Shion a smile.

"Beautiful afternoon, my liege," he said. Shion smiled, holding up the plastic grocery bag.

"I have something to show you. Let's go inside."

Nezumi looked down and for a split second his face seemed panicked, but in the blink of an eye it disappeared.

"Alright." He said quietly.

xoxoxo

The records were sprawled onto Shion's coffee table. The cassettes were on top of them in stacks and the albums lied beside them as Shion sat the stereo by the balcony window.

"I was thinking of you today," Shion said, looking over at Nezumi. Nezumi was sitting on the couch looking away. Shion couldn't read his expression and he frowned before Nezumi said "I'm flattered."

He smiled flirtatiously as he leaned back, putting his arm on an armrest. "I see you have something with you."

"Ah. YES!" Shion held up the Nirvana album and Nezumi's face blanked.

"You mentioned this band before, didn't you? I wanted to know what they sounded like."

Nezumi scoffed, grinning as he covered his forehead with his palm. He shook his head. "I don't think that band is in your taste. They might be a bit too much for someone who can relate to a Vanessa Carlton song."

Shion pouted, puffing out his cheeks. "You always make assumptions about me," he said in annoyance, "and you make me out to be some idiot. I know more about the world than what you're saying I do."

He looked down, opening the cd case. Nezumi glanced at him.

"I'm just not so sure you'd like that band. They can be a bit angry and raw at times... from what I've seen, you're a jovial person. You wouldn't want that tainted by something like grunge."

Shion turned away as he put the cd in his stereo. He clicked a button as he said "I may not know much about bands or songs, but I can always learn. You shouldn't make judgements about me, yet."

A guitar riff sounded. Nezumi knew it all too well. Shion looked back at him and Nezumi gave him a knowing smile.

"Just wait for it," he said, as Shion listened to the intro. The first verse began and the music carried a certain beat with it. Shion's eyes widened.

"I've heard this on the radio. So this is the band!" Nezumi nodded. "I bet you'd appreciate it now that you know what they're saying. Do you know anythig about rock music?"

Shion shrugged as he hummed along with the song.

"My mother never really listened to it much and Safu doesn't like it... so I guess I really don't." He looked up at Nezumi as he paused the stereo.

"This is what most rock music sounds like, isn't it?"

"Only the legends." Nezumi was now kneeling beside him, flipping through the booklet the album came with. He pointed at the small words. "Do you ever read the lyrics to a song to understand it?"

"No," Shion said quietly. He looked down at the carpet in dismay. Nezumi probably saw him as an idiot for all of this but he was proven wrong as Nezumi said "That's to be expected from you. I'll let that one pass for now because my handsome prince had been trapped in an awful tower for the greater part of his life."

Nezumi smirked and put down the booklet as he saw Shion look away. His ears were red.

Leaning against the coffee table, Nezumi watched as Shion turned back to the stereo. They sat for a few moments without talking.

Nezumi asked "Why do you like music?"

"I like it because it makes me happy," Shion said quietly. Nezumi kept his blank expression and showed no emotion as he nodded. What a generic answer.

"You don't get angry much do you?"

Shion put his thumb to his bottom lip in thought. He'd never really been one to get mad at anyone over anything. At least not enough to count in any way. He couldn't find the answer and looked at Nezumi, who grinned.

"Ah, so rock wouldn't be your forte."

"For...te?" Shion said the word aloud. Forte. He had heard it before but the definition was unknown... forte.

"What's that?"

Nezumi interupted Shion's inner musings. Shion had to catch himself from thinking too much on a single word before he looked in the direction of Nezumi's index finger.

The Aimer cd was still in the pastic bag.

"Oh, this...," Shion's heart raced in his chest and he looked at Nezumi as he held it up. "I...wanted to try listening to this."

Nezumi looked at it boredly. He could only guess what kind of band this was. From the looks of it, he'd guessed some kind of indie pop and rose an eyebrow as he read the back.

"Looks like a compilation of coversongs."

Shion asked "coversongs?"

"Songs written by someone and remade by someone else."

Shion took the cd from his stereo and put it back in it's case. The casing clicked. "That's illegal isn't it?"

Nezumi opened the album and took the cd out as he said "Not if they give the original owners their credit. They are ways around it."

"Ah."

Nezumi pressed the forward button until he reached a song they knew. Track 11. Shion heard the piano and his heart nearly lept from his chest as he looked at Nezumi.

"You've heard this before?"

Nezumi didn't really question himself as he stood up.

"I know that song in particular. It's very popular."

"I don't think I've heard it before." Shion stood up as well as he listened intently to the music. The verses were sung softly in a tune he only barely recognized, and the more the song continued, the more he felt his chest fill with warmth. The voice of this person made him feel something he wasn't sure about. He knew he felt that way when Nezumi looked at him, but for a song? That would be rather abnormal.

Nezumi himself had grown on the voice. Something about it was comfortable, but he couldn't place it. He scanned the tracklist over and over. It sounded right but so different. He looked up at Shion.

"Have you heard from this band before?"

Shion sheepishly looked at the carpet as he slumped his shoulders. He didn't want to admit the album he cared so much about was one he never even knew of before.

"Yes." He said quietly, biting his lip. Nezumi flipped the cd case over and leaned into his hand.

"You shouldn't lie to people."

"But I was-" Shion almost protested but a finger on his lips stopped him.

"When you lie to someone you're looking down on them."

The music filled the air and Shion's eyes stared at Nezumi's. They were so grey and beautiful, he couldn't believe it. He wanted to know everything about the songs and bands like Nezumi did.

He couldn't place the feeling in a proper description, but he found himself unable to let Nezumi go. He didn't question why this stranger started staying with him, just that it felt right.

His face turned a slight pink as he, without thinking, leaned forward. Nezumi's eyes widened in surprise as he held his hand to Shion's mouth. Shion stared at him and turned dark red.

Nezumi laughed.

"This is a prime example of what music can do. You felt something because the emotion of the song played it, and now look at you!"

He laughed even more as Shion swatted away his hand and pressed the stop button.

Laugher ceased. Nezumi looked up at Shion. "Did I offend you?"

"The music didn't do this," Shion said quietly.

Those words made Nezumi's stomach turn for reasons unspecified. His palms began to sweat as soon as he heard the tone in Shion's voice. Shion didn't look up at him.

It had officially been a week that they had been talking, and in that short time a number of odd things happened. Nezumi couldn't shake away the image of white hair and red eyes, Shion had found himself intrigued by things he didn't know he took interests in, and without realizing it, he was in a rush to come home instead of driving all afternoon.

Nezumi thought about the theater and Inukashi. His mind started to race. He thought about what he would do to fix it and how he hadn't found the right ideas. He thought about his childhood and the things that brought him to Shion, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. Without even thinking twice he ended up back here again. This guy was dangerous.

Shion looked through the window. His voice was quiet.

"Do you ever think about fate?"

"Nonsense." Nezumi scoffed, grinning widely. He'd put up a confident front for this one. Shion continued looked through the window as he clutched the grocery bag in his hands.

"I believe in it," he said quietly. Nezumi tried to offer words to the conversation but fell short immediately. The afternoon sun shone so brightly on Shion's brown hair that parts of it looked white. Nezumi felt as though the walls were closing in on him.

Shion glanced at him and said "I really think I was meant to meet you," His eyes shining in the sunlight held a red tint. Nezumi's face paled and his throat went dry.

The conversation was too heavy for him. He didn't want to get up and leave; he'd have nowhere to go back to. He didn't want to say anything about his dreams; they were just dreams. Imagination. It didn't exist, there was no way possible. He had expected to pick at Shion's musical knowledge and to have Shion retort, proving him wrong. That's what they did all week. That's just what they do, that is what two strangers do,

but then Nezumi recalled the first night and having gone that far already, he realized he was in too deep with no way out.

He only laughed. It was forced.

"Probably because you didn't know Nirvana." He said. He wiped his palms on his pants. Shion smiled at him. It was a knowing smile, as though Shion could see past the facade. It was terrifying. Nezumi didn't look up to see the smile.

His heart sped up and his eyes widened and he felt it; that song again. That song that only flew through his head when certain things happened.

He tried to ignore it and failed.

It already laced his thoughts venomously.

_Nevertheless, I shall remain in this place _  
_and continue singing. _  
_Please, somehow, _  
_send my song to where it must reach. _  
_Please, somehow, _  
_receive and accept this song of mine._

He looked up at Shion and Shion looked through the window again. Something wasn't right. Nezumi's eyes darted to the Aimer cd and he thought about the theater and Inukashi and the boy from his dreams. Something really wasn't right. The hot chocolae, the night wrapped in blankets, the next day... the longer he spent time with Shion the more he started feeling things.

Not like the annoyances or anger towards Inukashi or their bandmates; it was as if he were listening to a song and he felt it from the inside out. He didn't have a name for it because he refused to give it one. The tune of the song didn't cease but got louder. He chuckled sarcastically. Surely he had gone mental.

How ridiculous. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening, he was putting too much emphasis on small, meaningless coincadences. He'd seen people with dyed white hair before, so why didn't he feel this way about them, too?

Nothing made sense.

Meanwhile, Shion absent mindedly pressed the play button and hummed along with the parts he knew. The piano calmed him and he wondered if that's what it did for Nezumi. Staring at the buildings and the airplanes, he started wondering what he was really going to college for. Was he this passionate about studying Ecology?

The feeling he got listening to music differed from his feelings opening a textbook. He had only tried so hard for Safu; he only tried so hard to leave that place and see this one.

Safu had gotten her heart broken but shion knew she'd be okay. He didn't get it. He didn't get why the bus almost hit Nezumi or why Nezumi was here or why it all felt natural. He didn't know why he was tempted to kiss him or what it meant when they slept with eachother. There were too many things to question and not enough explainations.

This was more than he bargained for but he didn't mind it. All he wanted to do was listen to this piano all day and he wanted Nezumi to be there with him. He sighed contently, staring at the mid afternoon sky.

It wasn't cold but he really wanted snowfall right now.

xoxoxoxoxo

a/n: sooo...this was kind of long. I keep thinking everything is rushed but then I remembered this is CHAPTER NINE. So I tried to get this somewhere progressive, and now I can guiltlessly write the interesting parts. I wanna make the next chapter different. Different from all of these. Like... a turning point.

Thank you for the reviews, and thank you for reading ^^


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: It's been a few weeks. i apologize. Since then, I've gotten a job and I've been reeeeally really busy...

Disclaimer: I still don't own No.6, but guess what I do own. Yeah you guessed right. Pretty Hate Machine.

xoxoxoxo

A guitar was leaning against the brick wall of a loft. Beside it were two pillows, worn and dust covered, with furry animals lying on them lazilly. Beside those animals were bowls of water with small puddles of it around a table and chairs, and underneath the table were a number of bowls filled with dried food.

It was fairly messy, but enough to look artistic. Or so that's what Inukashi had tried to tell himself. He walked in stretching and his back popped as he sighed, exhausted. Another day at work was worth absolutely nothing. He'd had enough of scrubbing toilets and buffering floors, but whatever paid his bills and gave him food, he'd do. He looked at the stacks of paperwork on his table.

"That damned Rat," he grumbled, thumbing through the petitions and decline letters. He really tried to save the theater, but when he'd asked to keep it as is, the people above him only snickered at his work uniform and laughed mockingly. As he'd thought, there was no way anyone in that building would listen to a mere janitor. He sighed, sitting in a chair close by. The guitar was shining in the evening sunset, and it had been a number of days since Nezumi had left it there.

He'd never forget the face he saw as he silently asked to keep his most prized possession somewhere safe. There was probably another option, considering how Nezumi hadn't been back to the theater in awhile, but Inukashi could only guess what that option was. He scratched his head in thought.

Concerts were listed for the showroom just uptown, but he knew with only a bassist and guitarist, there was no way they could perform and be taken seriously. It was another source of income besides janitorial duties, but an unreliable one. Inukashi knew the notes and could play them by ear, but he knew he lacked the same kind of passion Nezumi had whenever he sang. He tried to imitate it, but there was something deeper than that, and Inukashi knew this well because Nezumi had sang for him before.

He had a love for musicians and artists and lyrics, also, but that was another story. whatever that damned crooked two string banjo had yammered on and on about didn't matter to Inukashi as long as he'd make enough to feed his dogs. Something was unusual about their last meeting, though.

Nezumi's grey eyes looked different. It was as though the emotion was no longer under a veil but instead in plain view, and his voice was low and hoarse as he set down his instrument and said "please take care of it."

Where ever that rat had gone off to, Inukashi hoped that he'd survive out there. The city was full of gangs, crimes, druggatics and drunks. No one was safe after dark and how he managed to survive in that abandoned place, Inukashi would never completely know. It was a wonder that no one had already busted through the door of this loft and held him at gunpoint.

Pondering these things, Inukashi kept his stare on the guitar as he aimlessly pet the dog at his side.

x

Shion had fallen in love with his stereo and every night and day he played the Aimer cd, singing with his cracking voice and dancing along with his chores and collegework. Occasionally, Safu would call and his expression seemed to dim, but Nezumi couldn't guess why. He probably missed her or something.

There was a feeling of sickness festering in the pits of his insides but he ignored it. Since seeing Shion resemble the boy from his dreams, he had gotten quieter and more introverted around him. The silence was enough considering Shion filled the absence of talk with the same soft music. Given, the music wasn't quite in Nezumi's tastes, it was a good distraction.

It wasn't loud enough to drown out his inner musings, so occasionally, Nezumi would go for a walk. Shion always expected him back and he had nowhere else to go, so he was caught in a web. If his circumstances had been any different, Nezumi wondered if he'd shamelessly abandon the boy. They were supposed to be strangers and in a few weeks time, so much had changed and he couldn't grasp it.

"What do you think about fate? You never answered my question." Shion asked, looking over his textbooks to Nezumi. Nezumi was on the floor staring through the balcony window, strumming his fingers to the sound of bass guitars filling the air. He didn't look back.

"I told you I don't believe in it," he said bitterly. Shion would then sigh and continue his work only to get excited and play the same album over and over again. The same music again and again.

Every morning and night he'd hum along to Aimer and every day while he was gone, he'd leave stickynotes with light blue scribbles on them, and they always read things like "I'm glad to have known you" or worse, "I find myself drawn to you." with scribbles of mice jumping over ecology books.

Nezumi had realized after having another one of his dreams that he was losing his mind and needed to escape, but he couldn't figure out how. He couldn't find a way to. He hated being here without anything to contribute and more so he hated feeling as though he were imposing. What was this attitude he'd formed since they met? That he could rely on Shion for anything?

The lines were getting thinner and thinner and the walls were getting closer and closer. Situations like this are exactly how he ended up at that theater, so one afternoon, he'd made up his mind. He would leave.

In chickenscratch on the coffee table, a lone stickynote read in black "_thank you. thank you for having found me even though I'm such a small constellation._"

and like that, Nezumi had walked through the door quicker than he intended. He needed to leave. His mind was spinning and he felt paranoid as though someone were watching him. He couldn't breathe. Around every corner there was another person he'd mistaken for a man in a police uniform, and the people of this city started looking strange and unusual. He had expected them to be in more rags than this. There were no markets set up, there were no dead bodies and flies. It was all alien to him and he couldn't handle it anymore. Shion was making him insane and he felt like he was drowning.

Making his way from Shion's apartment, Nezumi was walking and his pace was getting quicker and quicker. He would gather the rest of his things from Inukashi, and as for his records and tapes; he would leave those with Shion. They were too valuable to bring with him and too fragile to carry back and forth.

The sun was shining and the sky was blue, but the air felt cold.

Somewhere nearby Shion was in his car.

His radio had become much more admirable as he changed the stations and listened to the songs they played. He had taken a liking to rock music only because that's the only thing Nezumi seemed to gravitate towards. Some of it was a bit too heavy for him, and he'd tried to understand it, but it only gave him a headache. Other times, bands he'd recognized from Nezumi's lectures had played, and he'd listen intently for the sole purpose of being closer to him.

Though he knew many would think of his conclusions as weird and foolish, Shion couldn't deny that Nezumi was the center of his thoughts. Since they'd first met, all he could think about were his grey eyes, dark hair and his voice. All he wanted to do was learn more and more about these things; he'd become so out of focus with his work and his studies that he wondered if he was even the same person he was before. He'd felt so much more alive these days, as if he were finally a human being, and for once everything he'd ever wanted was finally with him.

Shion decided tonight would be the night that he'd do it, finally. He had made up his mind after alot of thought and he decided he wanted to write a song with Nezumi. About anything, anything at all. He wanted to write everything Nezumi made him feel and put music to it. The very idea was infatuating and lovely, and as he drove home, all he could think about was their first night together and his lips. All he had wanted to do was be closer to him, as close as he could possibly be with someone like him.

At night he missed sleeping beside him so much that he'd move to the floor beside the couch. At school he'd impatiently wait for his course to end so he could study and listen to Nezumi speak. In the mornings he'd glance down at the couch and smile to himself as he passed his sleeping form, and never in his life had Shion felt such an attraction to another human being.

He couldn't figure it out, but he wanted to. He couldn't put the right words to describe it, but he knew the right tune, and as he stepped out of his car, he hummed something.

As he crossed the parkinglot, he hummed it to himself even louder and realized, opening the glass doors, it sounded familiar. what was the name? He didn't know the name. It bothered him so much; maybe Nezumi would know.

The door opened and Shion shouted.

"Nezumi! Guess wha-" he stopped mid sentence.

The apartment was cleaner than it was before, and everything was organized. He closed his mouth as he stood in the doorway, straining to hear anything he could. The entire place was silent.

The view overlooking the buildings became cold. The apartment was silent and cold, but Shion shook it off. Maybe it was the weather.

He shut the door slowly and looked at everything. This wasn't the first time he'd gotten home before Nezumi; maybe he'd be back later. Content with that answer, he stepped over to the coffee table and made his way to the stereo. Then he'd pressed a button and looked back through the balcony window.

The cd skipped and wouldn't play, and every time Shion rewound it, it only skipped in the same place. The same introduction was on repitition, so he turned it off.

That never happened before.

Shion's breath caught in his throat as fear raced through his veins. He felt sick and couldn't figure out what was going on; it was just fear. He could get over that. He would see Nezumi later and laugh at how funny he was acting. It was so ridiculous and irrational to be this concerned over something silly like a skipped cd. He probably had to wipe the lens of the stereo was all.

Calming himself down, he felt the pressure leave his chest as he went to go find a tissue, and as he walked to the hallway, he noticed the bathroom was empty. The bedroom was empty. There was no one in either one.

He noticed that Nezumi's rugged old guitar picks weren't lying on the floor like they used to. He also noticed that his box of bandaids went missing.

Coming back to the livingroom, Shion tried to come up with a good, realistic lie to make himself believe so he'd feel more comfortable until Nezumi returned. He could have gone to the record store... maybe he went to go find more music. He said he was in a band before, didn't he?

Perhaps he was meeting with them. Wiping the lens and blowing on the back of his cd, Shion saw his reflection and bit his lip harder until he felt it turn white. His pulse sped up again and the pressure returned, so he flipped the cd over and pressed play.

Music filled the air and it calmed him just enough to make him stand up and get a glass of water. His throat felt dry. Humming along with the music, Shion thought about everything he had learned in the past few weeks and everything he wanted to learn. There was a melody playing in his heart and he was certain he'd never heard it before.

When Nezumi came back he just knew he would feel very stupid for how he'd overreacted over nothing and drank the water, hoping it would do something to keep him calm,

but it didn't.

Shion walked back to the livingroom, setting the empty cup on his coffee table.

That's when the stickynote caught his eyes. He only had a moment to see it properly before it blurred. Everything blurred.

The records lied against the wall, the tapes were stacked neatly in a corner shelf. The place was clean and organized and the cd skipped again. The stereo wouldn't play anymore.

Shion bit his bottom lip as he wiped his eyes. He had lived alone before, for a long time before he met this man. so why, why did everything hurt much worse knowing he had to go back.

xxxx

I know this wasn't much of a chapter but now that everything is organized I have time to actually update.

Hope this was actually worth the wait


	11. Chapter 11

SOOOO...

Disclaimer: I do not own No.6~

xoxoxo

The sounds of music playing through the walls echoed all night and day. All the music was placed on the coffee table, stacked neatly. Shion stayed in the livingroom lying on the couch trying to think up anything but the obvious answer. He didn't want to think Nezumi wrote that as a goodbye, so he spent his time trying his best to find any reason to gain hope he felt himself losing.

It was seeping from his chest and his body became restless. He stared at the ceiling with tears in his eyes as the music drowned through the atmosphere. The piano was beautiful, but it wasn't making him feel the same way he felt when Nezumi was by him. It didn't give him the same feeling he felt when they were together and he couldn't understand why it hurt this badly,

just that he was stuck this way and had no idea where to start to make it any better.

As the piano ended and the last notes were sang, there was a faint click in the distance, and the apartment was silent. There wasn't the puttering of Nezumi's fingers tapping on the window. There weren't any footsteps through the hall or diningroom.

The fridge had all of it's food in it, none was half eaten. There were no emptied cups on coasters, no opened cd cases with booklets strewn about.

There was no voice in the air singing memorized tunes with slight familiarity. No hands ruffling Shion's hair, not even the faint sound of breathing from a close distance.

Shion glanced to the other side of his livingroom and wondered if he felt this way because he was attached to the company, or if he'd tricked himself into believing infatuation was fate. After all, it hadn't been a full year that they'd known eachother, so the significance couldn't have been anything more than a crush...

He stood up and stared at the stereo. It lost it's magic like the music lost it's sound. The sun was far beyond the horizon and it was after dark. an uncomfortable feeling.

The livingroom floor had no blankets on it. No black jacket strewn across it, no new dirty shoeprints. He couldn't remember the last time he slept in his own bed, nonetheless, by himself in his own room.

He never realized how much he depended on Nezumi for happiness. Feeling like there could be a knock on the door any moment, Shion hoped that his gut feeling was lying. He hoped those were just lyrics; or a note of gratitude... anything but goodbye. It couldn't be goodbye forever.

He didn't want to think of that.

Clutching his pillow, he closed his eyes. All of the ideas he had about getting to know this man and the conversations they'd have; the repitition of their first meeting, the music and the singing. All of it was becoming just a memory, and while the cut was still small,

the smallest cuts still sting the worst.

Everything blurred again.

xxxx

"You're back." A set of brown eyes greeted grey as Nezumi shoved Inukashi aside. He growled in his own doorway, clenching his fists. "you have alot of nerve fucking barging in here like that!"

"I came back to get something." Nezumi said quietly. Inukashi looked at him in surprise. The Nezumi he knew was always distant but this time he had a somber aura around him. It was unsettling. Inukashi's voice softened as he watched Nezumi pick up the guitar and put it in a worn case.

"Nezumi?" He asked. Nezumi didn't look up as he said "Working with you has been nice."

Black boots walked across a stained carpet and over wooden floorboards. Bare feet scattered past , leaping in their way. Inukashi shouted "What are you saying?!"

"I'm leaving." Nezumi said. He didn't say anything more or even breathe a second breath. His eyes just stared into Inukashi's in a way that reminded Inukashi of their first meeting. He glared up at Nezumi, timidly.

"Is this because of that theater?!" He shouted. his hands grabbed Nezumi's shoulders as he shook them. "you don't have to fucking bail on me like this! I tried! I worked my ass of to save that place but I told you no one listens to a janitor!"

Nezumi grabbed his wrist and yanked him away. Inukashi looked up as Nezumi's head lowered. He shook it.

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?!" Inukashi asked, frantically. Nezumi stepped towards the door but there were hands yanking him back by his coat. He glared over his shoulder silently. Inukashi glared back, confused.

They stared at eachother for a number of minutes. The silence broke. Inukashi shouted,

"What could happen so bad that you just get up and leave?! Are you on some kind of narcotic or something?!"

A flash lit through Nezumi's eyes and he looked down, growling. His body shook. Inukashi tried to lift his hair to see his face.

He realized the weight of his word choice and said softly, "I didn't mean to-"

"goodbye."

The door shut. Inukashi stared at it in shock as his eyes widened, and he looked back at his dogs. They looked up at him from their places on the floor, and Inukashi's eyes swelled with tears. He couldn't figure out what would make Nezumi act like that. It must have been the theater but for years, that guy's been moody and difficult.

He slid down the back of the door as he locked it, and frowned before choking on his breath.

"Stupid fucking RAT," he shouted. "WHEN ARE YOu GOING TO QUIT ACTING LIKE THIS ALL THE TIME...YOU'RE PLAYING MIND GAMES."

Words were just words. People were just people. Music was just music. Why did everything have to be a broadway show with that guy. Every song they tried to write, every single time something like that happened, he did that same thing. Every single time someone said anything about substance abuse, he'd become distant and hide.

He always hid in that small room in the theater, and now even that was gone. There was nothing they could do, and they were fairly young. They had a history with eachother on this side of town, and it wasn't exactly a remarkable one. In time they grew stronger by one another, but the more Inukashi had looked to Nezumi, he seemed focused on something else.

It was always something different.

If it wasn't another album or a new find, it was a song in the works, and very rarely, another person. Knowing he hadn't the patience to make anymore friends, Inukashi wondered what could have changed in the past few weeks enough to make him decide to get up and leave like that.

Did he meet someone new? Was it something bad? Those streets were a war after midnight. Anything could have happened, but the way he spoke and carried himself out, Inukashi knew it wasn't another wound, but the same old one.

Feeling his eyes water, he cringed, punching the floor.

"Get over it already!" He growled to himself. He wiped his eyes. "People aren't born worthless! Don't you get that!"

A memory of the day they met flickered behind his eyelids and he saw himself, much shorter than he was now, and Nezumi, barely five feet tall. He saw rain and red tinted eyes; they had been crying. There was only one thing he recalled Nezumi telling him.

"_People are cold_." He said quietly.

That could have meant anything. For years the big question was never asked. Inukashi knew he'd probably never know and Nezumi would never tell. He thought to himself, had he known, perhaps this could make sense. He shook his head. "No, nothing makes sense with that guy."

xxxxxxx


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